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stellophiliac · 11 months ago

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how to build a digital music collection and stuff

spotify sucks aaaass. so start downloading shit!!

file format glossary

.wav is highest quality and biggest

.mp3 is very small, but uses lossy compression which means it's lower quality

.flac is smaller than .wav, but uses lossless compression so it's high quality

.m4a is an audio file format that apple uses. that's all i really know

downloading the music

doubledouble.top is a life saver. you can download from a variety of services including but not limited to apple music, spotify, soundcloud, tidal, deezer, etc.

i'd recommend ripping your music from tidal or apple music since they're the best quality (i think apple music gives you lossless audio anyway. .m4a can be both lossy and lossless, but from the text on doubledouble i assume they're ripping HQ files off apple music)

i also love love love cobalt.tools for ripping audio/video from youtube (they support a lot of other platforms too!)

of course, many artists have their music on bandcamp — purchase or download directly from them if you can. bandcamp offers a variety of file formats for download

file conversion

if you're downloading from apple music with doubledouble, it spits out an .m4a file.

.m4a is ok for some people but if you prefer .flac, you may wanna convert it. ffmpeg is a CLI (terminal) tool to help with media conversion

if you're on linux or macOS, you can use parameter expansion to batch convert all files in a folder. put the files in one place first, then with your terminal, cd into the directory and run:

for i in *.m4a; do ffmpeg -i "$i" "${i%.*}.flac"; done

this converts from .m4a to .flac — change the file extensions if needed.

soulseek

another way to get music is through soulseek. soulseek is a peer-to-peer file sharing network which is mainly used for music. nicotine+ is a pretty intuitive (and open-source) client if you don't like the official one.

you can probably find a better tutorial on soulseek somewhere else. just wanted to make this option known

it's bad etiquette to download from people without sharing files of your own, so make sure you've got something shared. also try to avoid queuing up more than 1-2 albums from one person in a row

tagging & organizing your music

tagging: adding metadata to a music file (eg. song name, artist name, album) that music players can recognize and display

if you've ripped music from a streaming platform, chances are it's already tagged. i've gotten files with slightly incorrect tags from doubledouble though, so if you care about that then you might wanna look into it

i use musicbrainz picard for my tagging. they've got pretty extensive documentation, which will probably be more useful than me

basically, you can look up album data from an online database into the program, and then match each track with its file. the program will tag each file correctly for you (there's also options for renaming the file according to a certain structure if you're into that!)

there's also beets, which is a CLI tool for... a lot of music collection management stuff. i haven't really used it myself, but if you feel up to it then they've got extensive documentation too. for most people, though, it's not really a necessity

how you wanna organize your music is completely up to you. my preferred filestructure is:

artist > album > track # track

using a music player

the options for this are pretty expansive. commonly used players i see include VLC, foobar2000, clementine (or a fork of it called strawberry), and cmus (for the terminal)

you can also totally use iTunes or something. i don't know what audio players other systems come with

i personally use dopamine. it's a little bit slow, but it's got a nice UI and is themeable plus has last.fm support (!!!)

don't let the github page fool you, you don't have to build from source. you can find the releases here

click the "assets" dropdown on the most recent release, and download whichever one is compatible with your OS

syncing

if you're fine with your files just being on one device (perhaps your computer, but perhaps also an USB drive or an mp3 player), you don't have to do this

you can sync with something like google drive, but i hate google more than i hate spotify

you can get a free nextcloud account from one of their providers with 2GB of free storage. you can use webDAV to access your files from an app on your phone or other device (documents by readdle has webDAV support, which is what i use)

disroot and blahaj.land are a couple providers i know that offer other services as well as nextcloud (so you get more with your account), but accounts are manually approved. do give them a look though!!

if you're tech-savvy and have an unused machine lying around, look into self-hosting your own nextcloud, or better yet, your own media server. i've heard that navidrome is a pretty good audio server. i unfortunately don't have experience with self-hosting at the moment so i have like zero advice to give here. yunohost seems to be a really easy way to manage a server

afterword

i don't know if any of this is helpful, but i just wanted to consolidate my personal advice in one place. fuck big tech. own your media, they could take it away from you at any moment

#stel speaks #music piracy #soulseek #fuck spotify #media piracy

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theshitpostcalligrapher · 9 months ago

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req'd by @3m4l

chat told me while i was writing this that it should be a .wav?

text: marcille_WHOA_HEY_.mp3

#calligraphy #shitpost

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lu-is-not-ok · 5 months ago

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Since full stop hong lu has been released, is there anything about his voicelines and such that intrigues you?

Funny you ask about that, because yesterday I was going positively insane over his voicelines! :)

First I'll start with the more 'normal' thing that hit me, before moving on to the 'voice acting autism' parts.

This fucking line. Oh my god. This not only continues Hong Lu's thing with death and its meaning, but I believe it's also a reference to this line from Liwei in Ruina.

And well. Guess what. This is the two in one blog. This is where I make everything about two in one. And Full Stop Hong Lu's line combined with this context? It feels like a Daiyuism to me. Very Flower Burial, musing on the inevitability of death and how in the end it doesn't really matter. Flowers fall. People perish. And neither of them know.

...Okay now we get to the insane parts.

I don't talk about this often, mainly because it's hard to discuss in a text format, but I really, really enjoy picking apart the voice acting in Limbus. Like, not only is it Really Fucking Good, but some of the deliveries genuinely feel so nuanced that I can't help but see if I can dig deeper. And the following bits are thus more about the voice acting behind the lines rather than the text itself. Bear with me here. Tumblr doesn't like .wav files so I'll be linking directly to them in the Organized Assets folder.

First, there's the Afternoon Greeting line.

Note how in the last sentence, Hong Lu's voice has a moment where it wavers. A nervous laugh-like tremble. I don't speak Korean so I can't tell what exact word is being focused on with that moment, but it's notable since I don't believe any other ID has anything like that happen in a random casual voiceline.

I find that tremble interesting because it implies there's some sort of rising emotion behind that. Something about the realization that in reality Hong Lu's wealth means things that are considered expensive to some are really more than affordable to him makes him briefly stumble verbally.

We know that most Hong Lus, to put it bluntly, try their fucking hardest to ignore their reality. So I can't help but wonder if this admission of awareness, this forced lack of ignorance, is what's throwing him off? He can't exactly pretend like what is normal to him is normal to everyone when the chasm between him and others is staring him right in the face.

Ok, now for the thing that's been making me properly lose my mind for the past. Uh. However long this fuckass ID has been out for SFGHHGF.

There is a very, VERY notable difference between Full Stop Hong Lu's voice lines out of combat, and the ones in combat.

Compare his Deployment voiceline (casual, out of combat voice) to his Stage Entry voiceline (in combat voice).

This is, yet again, a voice direction choice exclusive to this ID.

Full Stop Hong Lu's out of combat lines keep the same traits as his voice in most other cases. Higher register, with a notable lilt to his speech. Hong Lu's voice tends to subtly shift at ends of his sentences, usually rising, and there's often a rhythm to how he speaks, causing his voice to have a sort of sing-songy quality to it that adds to his innocent and unaware vibe, as if he's got his head in the clouds.

This changes completely with Full Stop Hong Lu's in combat lines. Not only are they in lower register, said in a much more assertive tone, but the lilt in his voice is completely gone. The delivery for these is comparably monotone, methodical. It makes him sound like a completely different character, doesn't it?

Now, Full Stop Hong Lu isn't the only ID that has a voice line with that kind of delivery shift. Yurodivy Hong Lu's Skill 3 and K Corp Hong Lu's Commencing Attack voice lines are very similar if not the same kind of voice. However, unlike Full Stop Hong Lu's case, this shift is not consistent for those two. Full Stop Hong Lu however sticks to this tone for the entirety of his in combat lines, and I find that fascinating.

Man really just fucking Locks In.

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu #hong lu lcb #full stop hong lu #lcb analysis

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lazygirldoesfics · 1 year ago

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drunk confession [1/7]

how i imagine each of the bistro huddy guys would drunkenly confess their feelings for you

starting with nico !!

Nicole plops into the passenger seat of your old sedan, heaving a sigh. "Thanks for picking me up last minute."

"No worries, you're on my way anyway. What happened to Bridgette?"

"She fucking bailed." You watch as Nicole studies herself in the visor mirror. She picks at her mascara, eyes sparking with outrage as she continues, "Her bum ass boyfriend told her she 'couldn't come', that it's not 'his scene' so it'd be 'disrespectful' if she goes to another guy's birthday party without him. Like fucking grow up."

"Unbelievable," you groan, commiserating.

"I don't know why she stays with him," Nicole says smacking the visor back into place before she turns to you. Her lips curl upwards, deviously. "Which means we have to put in the work tonight to make sure she feels every bit of FOMO and gets pissed at that piece of shit so I'm not the only one seething about it." Nicole pulls out her phone, angling the camera to get both of you in the shot, and snaps a picture when you're wearing matching frowns. She texts it to Bridgette as you shift the car into gear and take off.

"Of course he picks a spot with absolutely no fucking parking," Nicole complains as you make your way to the club. The click clack of your heels echoes every inch of road you had to drive down until you finally found a place to park. Nicole keeps having to pull her dress down, grumbling each time she wrangles the hem back into it's place. You suppress a smile, amused by her grumpiness, knowing fully well that if she didn't want to be here she wouldn't have put in the effort to show up.

"It's gonna be fun," you cheer. "He's been talking up this spot all week."

Nicole stops dead, glancing down at you with eyes bearing just a hint of judgement. "It's Nico. I don't exactly trust his idea of a great spot. I'm prepared for sexual harassment and well drinks that taste like diesel." You shove her playfully with your elbow and that at least rises a smile out of her. "All I'm saying is I better get extra fries all week for coming to this. Like they better be hot and waiting as soon as I clock in."

"Agreed," you laugh.

There's a line out the door that emits more cursing from Nicole, but you make the best of it by sending selfies to Bridgette while you wait. She responds to each one almost instantly, hearting the messages or sending crying emojis. You frown when Nicole suggests this means Bridgette's probably watching reruns of Real Housewives by herself, while her boyfriend ignores her.

When it's your turn to be inspected by the bouncer, you give him your best smile. He barely glances at you before waving you passed the threshold. Stepping beyond the entrance door, you become engulfed by the change in atmosphere. Sweat slick air clings to you, fog from the DJ booth hazes your vision and the thrum of the bass pulsates through to your core. An air of cloying desperation sinks into your skin while your heels stick to the grime covered floor.

Nicole coughs next to you, disdain barely concealed. Eagle-eyed, you spot a guy stumbling towards your direction, beer sloshing onto the floor in his wake. Gently, you steer Nicole to the left, just beyond the drunken splash zone, saving her from a drenching.

That man has no idea of the life debt he owes you.

Nicole clenches her eye shut, breathing deeply. "Okay. Okay! I'm aligning my energy. I am here." Her eyes snap open and she brushes her long blond tendril back. "Let's go kill this shit."

She uses her height to scan the crowd and you're happy to watch from your shorter vantage point. "I see them." Nicole strides through the crowd towards the left side of the dance floor and you follow the path she carves. Still, she checks behind her every so often to make sure she hasn't lost you.

At last you make it through the crowd, rewarded with the sight of familiar faces. Brad turns his attention from the bar to wave a greeting, then signals back to the bartender to add two more drinks to his order. Ruby toasts her beer to you with a barely perceptible nod. Joey, perched at the edge of a black plastic bar stool, rubs at his temples. "This music is fucking awful."

"Oh, don't be such a boomer, Joey," Nicole teases, happy to abandon her own irritability if it means she gets to rub Joey's face in his. He mouths for her to shut up and Nicole responds by turning around to snap a selfie. She winks at you after sending the photo off to Bridgette, a secret between the two of you that she actually agrees with Joey more than he'll ever know. You choke down a laugh as you sit next to Ruby, letting Nicole sidle up to Brad and grab the two drinks he ordered for you both.

"Where's the birthday boy?" you ask and Ruby nods towards the dance floor. It's easy to spot Nico with his signature red bandana, though you don't know the cute blond girl he's dancing with. The burn of a blush creeps up your neck as you linger on Nico's hand clutching at the girl's side, ashamed that you notice the way his eyes rake down her figure. Besides him is Pickles, bouncing around like a pinball and dancing, presumably, with himself. That, at least, makes you smile.

"Bottoms up!" Nicole announces, handing a shot off to you. Her and Ruby share a terse smile. You wish they'd get along better, they are so incredibly alike.

You down the shot, letting the warm burn fill you. "Next one's on me!" you say, putting the glass down on the table and standing. "Anyone gonna dance?"

Ruby stills and Nicole proclaims she's not ready, turning back towards the bar to get another drink. Brad scans the crowd, though his eyes seem to trail after Nicole as she flirts with the bartender.

"Joey?"

The chef shakes his head. "Sorry, sunshine, as soon as this beer's done I'm out of here." He shakes his half full bottle of Coors at you. You put your hands on your hips, feigning appall. "You're all boring." With that, you jump into the crowd next to Pickles and bump your hip into his in time with the music.

"Y/N!!!" Pickles beams, flinging his arms around you and squeezing. "I'm so happy you're here!"

You squeeze Pickles just as hard, then take his hand to let him twirl you around. As you spin your eyes lock with Nico's, unaware that he'd even noticed you were here. You smile at him over Pickles' shoulder, and his lips pull into that lazy half-grin he sometimes gives you from behind the line. The blond he is with is lightning fast though, putting her hands on either side of his face to pull his focus back to her.

Your chest tightens, but the music changes to a song with a fast bass that dissolves the knots forming. You grab onto Pickles' hands and you jump together while sing-screaming the lyrics at each other. This goes on for awhile, the songs bleeding into each other, each one hyping you and Pickles up more and more.

The latest song begins to fade and Pickles leans into you, panting. "I need water."

You nod in agreement, fanning yourself with the neck of your shirt. Hands entwined, Pickles pulls you off the dance floor. Ruby and Joey are exactly where you'd left them, a few more beer bottles discarded around the table and hands waving wildly as they argue about something. Nicole stands a few feet away, back leisurely pressed against the bar. She's making exaggerated expressions over her espresso martini glass. You follow her eye line as you press up to the bar next to her and realize she is silently judging Brad's dance partner. Brad's eyebrows react back to her, and though not a word passes either of their lips, they are having a full blown conversation. Gracefully, Brad untangles himself from the girl, walking back over to Nicole in defeat. "I didn't think she was that bad."

"I didn't say a word," Nicole responds, smugly.

Barely hiding a smirk as the bartender approaches, you ask for two waters, handing a cup over to Pickles when they're given to you. The song changes just as the water hits your lips. The familiar opening bars to a Queen song fills the club. You turn to Pickles, eyes meeting each other in pure delight and the water cups are immediately discarded. "Oh we're ALL dancing to this one!" You proclaim, latching onto Nicole and Brad's wrists. You pull them forward, pushing them to follow Pickles onto the floor before you turn on Ruby and Joey. "You guys too, let's go! C'mon Joseph!" Ruby gets up, feigning reluctance as she lets you prod her along while you pull Joey by the crook of his elbow onto the floor with you.

You meet the others just in time to hear the girl Nico had been dancing with pout over the song being lame. She leaves when she realizes Nico's attention is totally lost for the moment. The song may not be her thing, but it also probably didn't help the way Pickles was jumping on top of Nico with abandon, holding absolutely no regard for her attempt to continue grinding. You all surround Nico, singing at the top of your lungs and jostling him in the middle of your mini mosh pit. Even Joey belts out a few words and plays air drums along with Nico's air guitar. Nicole catches it all on video, instantly sending it to Bridgette.

"Alright, alright. I'm outta here," Joey says as the song ends, waving his hands in front of his chest when you groan in protest. He pulls Nico in for an overly aggressive hug and slap on the back. "And don't any of yous be late tomorrow. I'm not dealing with a Terry temper tantrum." A chorus of 'bye Joey' and eye rolls reply to him.

"I'm heading out too. Happy Birthday," Ruby adds, a near smile hinting at her lips before following her boss towards the exit.

"Need. Water." Pickles pants again and heads back to the bar, just as the blond girl re-enters and takes up Pickles' spot next to Nico. Nicole and Brad, who have somehow gotten into an argument about how to make a proper gin martini, are so lost in their own bickering that they haven't noticed the crowd jostling around them. You stand awkwardly next to them, not wanting to get involved but feeling like you can't exactly escape either. Holding your arms across your chest, you sway uncertainly.

A hand find yours, and you look over your shoulder to see Nico tugging you back towards him. "It's not too early to cash in on a birthday dance is it?" He smiles at you in that aloof way, his eyes focusing in on you. A question bubbles on your tongue, wanting to know where the blond went but you decide you'd rather not know. "No, not too early. Right on time, I think," you smile back, fitting your arms around his neck.

His left hand is soft against your lower back, fingers guiding you to sway back and forth in time with the music. You're moving slow, the beat lost as you can feel the inches between you and Nico closing. The club is nothing but Nico's dark eyes swallowing you, the weight of his arms pulling around you until you're poised to meld together. You can't take the heat of Nico's eyes on you anymore so you hide against his collarbone, eyes shutting and letting the smell of earth and smoke on his shirt collar encompass your whole world. You're not sure if the thrumming you feel is the bass or your own heart, if you're still dancing or just standing still wrapped up in Nico's arms.

Suddenly you're knocked backwards, stumbling over your own feet until you hit up against someone. "Hey!" a voice shouts, indignant and you mumble an apology as you try to find reality again. "What the fuck, man," Nico's saying, head turning to glare at the man who'd shoved him and caused you to nearly fall on your ass. The guy is standing over him, absolutely beaming. When Nico finally sees him, he starts laughing. "Oh! Yo, I almost fucked you up man!" The two start shoving each other, albeit playfully, as more guys surround Nico, shouldering anyone, including you, out of the way to land punches and smacks on Nico's shoulder and stomach.

You feel disoriented, discarded even, as you slowly find your way back to the edge of the dance floor. You find the others there, all looking towards the sea of newcomers that have swallowed Nico. "Who are those guys?" you ask, hating how defeated your voice sounds.

"I think they used to work with Nico at Waffle House, at least some of them did," Pickles informs you. You try not to watch him assess you, ignoring the slight frown he wears as he turns to the bar to order another water. You drink it slowly when he hands it to you, watching the amorphous blob of raucous men completely take over the dance floor.

"And that's my cue to leave," Nicole asserts. "Ready?" she looks at you expectantly.

You should leave. You know this in the way you feel cold and unsure and slightly humiliated but you can't ignore that something just opened up between you and Nico. You're not quite ready to leave whatever that is behind yet.

"I'll drive you home," Brad interjects, saving you from having to say anything at all. You're not sure if he could sense your hesitation or if he was just looking for an opening of his own, but you're grateful nonetheless. As long as Nicole agrees.

Her eyes flit to Brad, assessing him with the quickness of a hummingbird's wings. "Let's go then," she says as if it's a challenge, daring Brad to follow through on something unspoken. You watch them disappear, Brad's hand hovering at the small of Nicole's back as she leads them through the crowd.

Next to you, Pickles rifles through his front jean pocket. He pulls out a bag of Skittles, pours some into his hands and offers them to you. "You don't have to stay for me you know," he chirps, "I told Nico I'd drive him home so I'm here for the long run."

You shove the Skittles into your mouth, the candy sticking to your teeth. You look towards the dance floor, watching the group of men you don't know chatting up different girls and pointing them towards Nico. You fix a smile on your face for Pickles. "I'm having too much fun to leave."

Pickles nods, giving you a look that's somewhere between skepticism and pity. You sigh, letting your shoulders sag and the pit in your stomach swallow you down with its full weight before putting your hand back out for Pickles to fill with more candy. Instead you feel a warm weight in your hand. You look up to see Nico, hand wrapping around yours. "You're still here," he's beaming at you, though his eyes are so glassy you're not sure how he can even see you clearly.

"Yeah," you answer softly, wishing you could stop the smile that's spreading from cheek to cheek.

"I think you need water," Pickles says after assessing Nico's wobbly stance, excusing himself from the table. Nico's still standing over you, hand in yours. "Our dance got interrupted," he says, his signature lazy laugh chasing after his words. He starts to move to the music that's playing, eyes slowly shutting. A heavy arm slams into his shoulder, and in the startle Nico slips his hand away from yours.

"You gonna introduce me?" It's the same guy that shoved into Nico while you two were dancing. His eyes waggle towards you in a way that makes you recoil.

"Oh uh, Carmine this is--"

He interrupts before Nico can finish. "No, let me guess. Nicole, right? Or are you Amber?"

You frown. "Neither. Actually, you just missed Nicole."

"Damn!" Carmine snaps his finger. "I really wanted to see the hottie my boy won't shut up about it."

"Bro," Nico says, with what could be a glare if his eyes were alert at all.

"Nah, I mean, you're cute too, don't get me wrong. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm nobody," you answer, hastily. "And I'm leaving so…have a good night. It was nice to meet you." You stand, ignoring the hushed way Nico tries to stall you. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop his fretting. "Happy birthday, Nico." You lean in, landing a soft, barely there kiss to his cheek. Eyes glued to the exit sign, you walk as fast as you can towards it before you completely lose your composure. You even ignore Pickles when he calls your name, pretending not to hear the way he asks Nico what happened to make you run off.

You look back at the dance floor quickly, noticing Nico's red bandana bob and sway in the crowd. You leave before it gets too close. The cold air outside hits you in the face like a brick, clearing your senses and leaving you with a weird empty feeling. Like you had something in the palm of your hand but it's slipped through your fingers. You walk a few feet, until the music is no longer drumming in your ears, and lean against the wall of a closed Chinese takeout. Your hands brace against your knees and you let yourself breathe. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes but you're too drained to fight them off. You can't help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Your feelings for Nico aren't entirely a secret to anyone, certainly not to yourself, though you hope you've always held your composure well enough. You're always hiding your blushing cheeks when he flirts and batting away Nicole and Amber's teasing when they catch you smiling to yourself after leaving the kitchen. But you always held it arm's length, knowing it was all just part of the fun with Nico. It can't ever be serious with him, it just can't be.

"Y/N."

His voice is like a rasps against the wind. You brush your eyes quickly, straightening up as Nico jogs haphazardly towards you.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" he says, breathing heavy as he catches up to you.

"Sorry, yeah, I um, I didn't realize how late it was," you lie.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

You shake your head as he contemplates you. Eventually he leans against the wall next to you, pulling his vape out for a long pull, as if that's going to help him breathe any easier.

You shrug one shoulder up. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome, is all," you admit quietly, trying to escape the track of his eyes on you. His lids are heavy almost closing as he rests his head back against the wall, yet he won't take his eyes off you. "Not possible for you to do that."

"I have to go, Nico." You say gently.

"Don't." Nico says, hand finding yours again. Entwining your fingers together, Nico tugs you towards him and you oblige, leaning against your side so you're facing him. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you can feel him nuzzling against the sensitive skin there.

"Nico," you protest without any real harshness or edge to your tone. Just a sadness that you can't mask the way you normally would.

"Stay," he pleads, hand trailing down your back. "Everyone else can leave, if it means you'll stay." His words murmur against your skin. Lips press against the side of your neck so gentle you're not sure you really feel anything at all. You sigh as he moves further up, letting him land soft little kisses up your neck to the nape of your ear. He nips at your lobe and that's when you have to push him away.

"Nico," you say firmly, putting a hand against his chest to make distance. He smirks as his head lolls back against the brick wall.

"C'mon baby," his hand hooks around your wrist, thumb running gentle circles. "I know you want me."

Your heart drops, sinking into the deepest pit of your stomach. You wretch away from him. "Don't be an asshole."

Nico's bloodshot eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stumbles forward trying to cling onto you again. "No, no, no. I want it too. YOU, I mean, I want YOU too."

He's holding onto your wrists, knees slightly bent as he sways in the non-existent wind. You're afraid he's going to fall down and you won't have the strength to pick him up so you walk him back towards the wall so he can lean against it. You try to pull your hand from him but he just holds on even tighter. "It's your birthday, you're drunk and you're just trying to get laid. There's a million girls in that club that would be happy to go home with you. Please don't do this to me, Nico. It's not fair. "

"They're not you. I don't want them."

"You don't want me either!" you laugh, incredulously.

Nico's mouth drops open, eyebrows shooting straight up as if they're going to hide in his bandana. "You're all I want!" You don't know how to respond to that. You stare back towards the club hoping Pickles or Carmine or someone will appear and come take him away so you can just go home and forget this entire night happened.

"I like you SO much," Nico confesses, eyes still wide and words slurring together. "Like, I haven't even quit once since you started working. Every time I get to see you it makes all the like bullshit worth it. I know it's kinda crazy, you and me. You deserve a lot better."

All the wind knocks out of you. You try to process what Nico is saying, justify it against the way his eyes glaze over with alcohol and weed. "You're drunk," you say again, an explanation.

"Yeah," he smiles, lopsided. "No way I'd ever tell you this shit if I wasn't."

And though his eyes are barely open there's a sincerity to his words. "You know," he continues, "I've seen our future, if we like, try this. It's all good baby, just me and you forever. 'Till the four kids of course."

"Four?" you laugh,"That seems like a lot."

"Okay maybe two, and a cat named Lucy."

"I'd like a cat," you smile, leaning against him as Nico wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the stretch of his smile against your cheek as he spreads kisses across your face. He moves closer to your mouth and you can feel his lips reach out for yours. You catch his head between your palms. "Not while you're drunk," you reprimand gently.

"That's fair. I can fuck with that," Nico smiles. "Tomorrow then. I'm taking out for breakfast before our shift and I'mma kiss the shit out of you."

"Sure," you smile back. "IF you remember any of this."

"Oh, baby, I'll never forget it."

Nico grabs you, picking you up off the ground as he twirls you just slightly. You're a little afraid you're both going to fall and tumble to the ground but he makes it around a little half circle before setting you back down. You throw your arms around his neck, holding him close as he nuzzles deep against your cheek.

Your phone pings, notifying you of a text. You pull it out from your purse, swiping it open while Nico continues to nestle into you. It's from Nicole, a picture of she took of you and Nico dancing. In it you're pressed against him, face hidden in his collar as he looks down on you with an expression of pure serenity. Looking at it you can't help the butterflies that swarm within you. You hold Nico even tighter, hiding your big, wide grin against his hair.

#bistro huddy #headcannons #nico x reader #god i hope there's somebody out there who wants this beside me hahahahhaa

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ozzyfromthecafeteria · 9 days ago

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dinner time :D

#noob: text (he/fun/confetti/pop)#lulz: text (he/bun)#three: text (he/him)#v1: text (zx/xe/wav/midi)

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maxbanshees · 2 months ago

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P3Q Datamining Roadblock: .anno files?

Hi everyone... I have been snooping through the files of P3Q and have found one roadblock in this kind of totally inadvisable quest that I'd like to drag other nerds into.

First of all, I'm using this mod of AssetStudio [the original one by perfare doesn't work for the Unity version that P3Q is made in, and even this new one shows some issues in the terminal... but at least everything loaded in.]

I'm also following this tutorial from the Pathologic Modding Wiki for changing assets.

Now... to the roadblock itself & some workarounds that haven't worked as of right now.

When you load in all of the files and sort by TextAsset, you'll get a lot of files whose containers end in .anno, and the contents are entirely unreadable.

They seem to be related to voiceovers in English and Russian, because the container path has voicover in it, and only ever mentions those languages.

I've tried bringing in the file into Notepad++ and changing the encoding, but nothing makes it more readable.

I've also looked up the file extension, and the closest I could find is this 20 year old page for a lipsyncing software. I've tried downloading the demo for it here [cue Silent Hill "My dick has led me to places I wouldn't go to with a gun" meme] and loading the .anno file in there, but it needs a .wav file to go along with it that I don't have. I've tried putting random .wav files in there and nothing happens.

[Love how creepy this application is though.]

So... that is my issue. I have no idea what these .anno files are and how to read them. I found one that was between Daniil, Andrey, and the Changeling, and it is driving me mad. I want the forbidden fruit.

Obviously I can and should wait for the full game, but I love roping people into my highly specific endeavors.

[My theory is that the 'text' in the file represents phonemes, which the game then uses to splice together animations for lip syncing. So, they might not even be readable... but... yes.]

In cooler news, I was snooping around the mesh files, and I think the P3Q Polyhedron uses the Exact same model as the P2 Polyhedron, but with some additional meshes and new textures.

[The additional parts I believe are called "Small_Part_##"]

I have to remember how I ripped buildings from P2 with all of their parts and props [I have the Polyhedron, along with Peter's whole damn house], but I think you have to go through the Scene Hierarchy tab + export as something besides OBJ.... I don't even remember.

Okay. Thanks everyone.

#pathologic 3 datamining #pathologic #pathologic 3 quarantine

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traintrainingmontage · 4 months ago

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Congrats on the 150!! Of course this means I gotta suggest a prompt for Rusty and Stepheny >:] I was thinking something along the lines of the 2 being buddies and hanging out like the peepaw and grandkid we've mentioned on discord! But obviously feel free to shake things up as the dealer!

YAAAAY thank you so much, Aster!! Rusty and Stepney are two of my faves, so I am MORE than happy to write about them! This one ended up being my absolute favorite ficlet to write thus far.

We're going to do a human!AU for this one! I am giving Stepney a unique speech pattern for this one, so I apologize in advance if it doesn't match up to what accent/speech pattern he would actually have!

(My inbox is starting to get low! If you have a prompt idea, please feel free to send it in. Details are here!)

Rusty's phone went off with a buzz, causing him to blearily lift his head from the pillow, then groan when he saw what time it was. However, it wasn't the incessant whining of their alarm that had awoken them, as they dimly realized; instead, it had been their message tone, which revealed that he'd received a new text.

Rusty quirked an eyebrow, curiosity waking him up faster than caffeine might. Who in the world was sending texts this early? Not even Skarloey and Rheneas, the oldest people in his apartment building, sent texts before 9:00 AM.

As he opened the message and read it over, the last vestiges of sleep disappeared as if by magic, replaced by a growing excitement.

"Hello Rusty!" the message read. "I'm Gonna Be In Your Neck Of The Woods Next Weekend For Work, And Thought It'd Be Nice To Catch Up If You've Got Time! There's Supposed T' Be A Carnival Happening Too, So Lemme Know If You'd Be Up!! (Down?)"

":-)"

Rusty couldn't stop themself from grinning as they texted out their reply. "Hi Gramps! Yeah, I'll be free. We can meet up by the big fountain in the middle of Crovan's Gate around 10. It'll be great to see you! 😄"

With that, Rusty set about clearing their calendar, already buzzing with excitement at the thought of getting to see his Gramps again. His visits were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were always a treat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next weekend found Rusty in a comfortable black hoodie, well-loved jeans, and sneakers, waiting by the Crovan's Gate fountain and idly playing with their hijab. They were keeping an eye on the crowd, waiting for their Gramps, when suddenly, a familiar figure caught his attention.

Evidently, they'd caught his too, because Thomas, clad in a windbreaker and sweatpants, came barreling up to him with clear indignation written all over his face. "Rusty?! What the heck! You said that you wouldn't be online today, but you're just out here hanging out!"

Rusty shot Thomas a rather unimpressed look. "Hi, Thomas," they replied, the words almost viscous with sarcasm. "Nice to see you too."

Thomas deflated a bit at the pointed greeting, but then rallied, slightly shaking the grocery bag he was holding (he'd doubtless been sent to pick up some things for Edward, if Rusty had to guess). "Yeah, well, what's so important that you're skipping out on the weekly guild raid?"

This time, Rusty rolled their eyes; Thomas was a good friend, but he never did well when personal inconvenience was involved. "I'm meeting someone today. My Gramps is going to be in the area, and I always try to see him when I can."

Thomas quirked an eyebrow at that, clearly confused. "Your Gramps? I thought you didn't have any family around here."

Rusty shook his head, trying their hardest to push down their exasperation. "We're not blood-related or anything, but he's--"

"RUSTY! There y'are, lad!" A sunny greeting floated over to the two, and both Rusty and Thomas looked over to see an older gentleman in a bright yellow fedora with a green band, a long beige overcoat, and a white polo shirt and black slacks underneath. He also sported a thick, bushy mustache (with a small goatee) and aviator glasses, giving the pair a hearty wave.

"Gramps!" Rusty grinned, waving him over. "Gramps, this is my mate Thomas. Thomas, this is Stepney, but I call him Gramps."

"Dunstan Stepney, at yer service, lad!" the older man chortled, holding out a hand for Thomas to take. "But y'can call me Gramps too, if ya like."

"Um, thanks...?" Thomas questioned, adjusting his groceries so that he could give Stepney's hand a good shake. At Thomas's words, however, Stepney's eyes lit up.

"Ah, a fellow Brighton boy, eh? Never thought I'd see another so far from home!"

Rusty was a tad surprised by that; he'd never have guessed that Thomas was from that region, given how much his speech and mannerisms took after Edward's. That said, Rusty was even more surprised at the shadow that suddenly crossed his friend's face at Stepney's comment. "Yeah, well, y'have. But don't be blabbin' about it t' others, thanks."

Sensing that he might have caused offense somehow, Stepney held up his hands in mock surrender. "My lips are zipped, lad. All I meant was I can tell jus' by lookin' atcha that yer a hard worker who means well. Rusty's got a good friend indeed with you around."

"O-Oh," Thomas blinked, somewhat taken aback but appreciative of the compliment all the same. "Well, uh, thanks." A small, genuine smile crept across his face as he turned to look at Rusty. "You two have fun; we'll hang out later, I guess." With that, he made to leave, giving them both a wave.

"See ya 'round, lad!" Stepney called.

"Bye, Thomas!" Rusty waved back.

"He seems like a good sort. But now," the older man grinned, "shall we head for that carnival?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dang it!" Rusty groaned, giving a forlorn look at the array of still-stacked milk bottles. He'd had five tries to knock them all down, yet hadn't managed even one! "Guess I'm just not cut out for this game."

"Aw, don't beat yerself up, Rusty," Stepney chuckled. "Maybe the ring toss'll do ya better."

The two headed over to a setup of glass pop bottles, where a sign proudly proclaimed that for three pounds, players had five tries to get the rings on the bottles. One ring earned a small prize, two rings a medium prize, and three rings a large prize. As they approached, a mother and her daughter were just starting to walk away from the booth empty-handed, a clear expression of dejection on the girl's face. "Alright, lad!" Stepney instructed, handing the bored-looking attendant a five-pound banknote. "It's all in the wrists. Give it your best!"

As Stepney pocketed his change, Rusty took the proffered rings, and flicked one toward the bottles. It clanked off the side, falling to the floor, and Rusty bit at their lip in concentration, determined to get the next one.

Despite Rusty's best efforts, however, five tosses had not yielded them any meaningful results, and all he could do was sigh in frustration as they turned away from the booth. "Sorry, Gramps. Now I REALLY know I'm not cut out for carnival games. Let's get---"

"WAHHHHHHH!"

A sharp cry drew both Stepney and Rusty's attention, and they looked over to see that the girl from earlier and her mother were now sitting at a nearby bench, the poor thing now bawling her eyes out and pointing to the booth. "But I WANT the big bear!" she wept, and Rusty and Stepney looked up to see that one of the large prize options was a large brown teddy bear with a bright yellow bow, perhaps as large as the girl herself.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," her mother soothed, "but it just wasn't meant to be. How about we go get an ice cream instead, hm?"

"NO! I want the BEAR!" the girl moaned, her tears even more bitter than before.

Rusty shook their head and sighed; it really was too bad, but it seemed like that poor mother had an uphill battle ahead of her. Stepney, however, seemed to have other ideas. With a small sigh and a resigned smile, the yellow-clad gentleman turned back to the booth attendant and drew out another three pounds. "One more go fer me please."

The attendant shrugged and handed Stepney the rings. "Now, watch closely, Rusty," his Gramps grinned. "It really is all in the wrists." With a careful flick, Stepney let the first ring fly. To Rusty's disbelieving eyes, it landed with a perfect clatter atop one of the many bottles.

"How did you do that?!" they exclaimed, not at all sure just how Stepney's technique could have differed from his own.

"Jus' takes practice. Had a lot of time for it while I was in th' Army."

Four more rings shot from his hands, and four more clinks could be heard as all five of Stepney's rings stood proudly atop the bottles.

The attendant, mouth agape, finally managed to ask what he wanted, and Stepney pointed to the bear, as well as one of the medium prizes, which happened to be a much more reasonably sized teddy bear with yellow-ish fur and a blue bow. The smaller bear was handed to Rusty with a wink, and before Rusty could get a word in edgewise, Stepney was already walking over to the girl and her mother, handing them the giant bear.

Rusty couldn't help but laugh at the earsplitting screams of delight which followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they had finished meandering around the carnival, Rusty and Stepney purchased some lunch and found a comfortable hillside to sit at while they ate. With hot sandwiches and warm tea in hand, it was the perfect time to relax. "Thank you for taking me out today, Gramps," Rusty smiled, polishing off the last of their meal and making sure that his bear was stain-free. "It was great fun."

"Hahaha, I'm glad you enjoyed, lad!" Stepney beamed. "It was just what I needed too." His good humor didn't last long, though, as a strange melancholy overtook him, one that Rusty wasn't particularly used to seeing from his Gramps. Dread suddenly pooled in his stomach, sensing that whatever Stepney had to say, it probably wouldn't be good. "I... I don't really know how to say it, but... this may be the last time I get t'see ya in a long while."

"What?" Rusty exclaimed, disbelief pouring out of that single word. "What do you mean, Gramps? What's going on?"

Stepney sighed, and somehow, the sound made him feel old, particularly given the way his body seemed to reflexively hunch in on itself. "I'm turning 65 this year, Rusty, and my body's not what it used to be. My joints are creaking, and my lungs aren't in good shape. The doctors say I may need to go in for surgery soon."

Stepney's eyes rose, staring up at the sunshine-lined clouds as they floated lazily by. His gaze, however, seemed to be looking at some point far away and long ago, beyond what Rusty could possibly see. "Before you rescued me from the streets in that bad part of Barrow, I was convinced there was nothin' left for me. I had no contact with my family, no home, and thugs lookin' to take what little I had. I was just a washed-up old man with nothin' left. Then you came along, helped get me some veterans' assistance, and now I have a job in Sheffield Park, promoting the Bluebell Railway.

"I'll forever be grateful to ya, lad, but... that doesn't change the fact that I'm old. My sister's close by, but she has her own life to live. I nev'r got married, I have no kids, and you're the closest thing I've got to a grankid. I jus'... I dunno. Dunno if goin' through surgery and all o' that's worth it. Maybe it's about time I just let things take their course."

"NO!" Rusty shouted, the volume uncharacteristic of him but with how emotional they were, it could only be considered understandable. "No! Please, Stepney! Don't give up! You love your job, and you're so much fun to be around. I love when you visit. I..."

There was a long pause as Rusty struggled to keep back tears, and a gentle hand came up to rub comforting circles into their shoulder, Stepney giving them a smile tinged with resignation. "Yer a good lad, Rusty. I'm so glad I metcha. But the occasional visits and texts aren't quite enough to keep th' loneliness away. I've led a good, long life, and I've done some bit of good in th'world. What's there to be upset about?"

Rusty sniffled, pulling some tissues out of their pocket and blowing their nose as Stepney pulled his hand away. "Well... what if I helped you find someone? Maybe you could give dating a try?"

"Hahahaha!" Stepney's course laughter was genuine, yet there was obvious disbelief lingering at the edges. "That's sweet o' ya, Rusty, but who'd be interested in an old man like me? I hate t' say it, but I'm not really interested in the company o' ladies, if ya catch my drift, and I doubt there's any gentleman out there who'd be interested either."

Rusty frowned, wanting to retort, but just then, a beep sounded from his phone. They pulled it out, shooting Stepney an apologetic glance, then looked it over and texted something back before putting it away. "Sorry about that. My neighbor asked where I was; he's just coming back from his job and wanted to drop something off."

"Oh, that's fine," Stepney reassured him, seemingly grateful for the change in subject. "You always have such nice things t'say 'bout the others in your building; it'll be nice to meet 'em."

Soon enough, a familiar face made his way up the hill, with Rusty giving him a wave of greeting. "Rheneas! Over here!"

Rheneas Fletcher, professor of physics at Furness College, was the quintessential definition of a silver fox. As he bounded up the hill in a button-up, vest, tweed pants, and dress shoes, clearly having attended some kind of lecturer's meeting, he waved back to Rusty, a calm smile on his face and a grocery bag gripped tightly in his hand. Between his short ponytail, streaked with streams of silver; horn rim glasses; and thin moustache, Rheneas was rumored to be an incredibly popular professor for a number of reasons.

Clearly, Stepney also thought so, given the way his eyes were transfixed upon the approaching gentleman.

"I brought back some cinnamon rolls from the meeting, enough for everyone in the building to have at least one," Rusty's neighbor explained, gesturing to the bag. "I can give you yours now, and one to this handsome stranger as well."

Rusty blinked, eyes suddenly jumping to Stepney, whose ears had gone slightly red at the compliment, and felt, deep in their bones, that the turning point had arrived.

"Rheneas," he interjected hastily, "this is Stepney, a friend of mine! He's amazing; he won me a prize at the carnival, he's been in the army, and he's got so many interesting stories! I bet you two would get on famously!"

Stepney paused, giving Rusty an unsure look, but clearly didn't want to leave Rheneas hanging. "Ah, well! Pleasure to meet you, Rheneas," he greeted, holding out a hand, and Rheneas took it, giving a firm handshake.

"A pleasure indeed. I would love to have dinner with you at some point, unless...?"

The words went unspoken, but even though Rusty lagged slightly on what he meant, Stepney understood immediately, and held up his left hand, showing that it was bare. "Ah, no conflicts of interest on my part. I would, ah, quite enjoy dinner with you some time."

"Excellent," Rheneas smiled warmly, and doled out a cinnamon roll to each of them before checking his watch and taking his leave, but not before exchanging numbers with Stepney.

"Well, Gramps," Rusty grinned in between bites of cinnamon goodness, "now that you've got a date, wouldn't you say there's something worth living for?"

Stepney shook his head, eyes disbelieving but a smile still on his face. "Well, it's a bit early t' say that, but... who knows. Maybe there's still some life in these ol' bones yet."

#te answers questions #te writes trains #ttte fanfic #march 2025 prompt event #ttte rusty #ttte stepney #ttte thomas #ttte rheneas

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